Nothing to hear here.

I got there early so I could have some time by myself, some time to think and “meditate,” as they say.

I have always been leery of that word; meditate, but as time goes on, I’ve become more comfortable with it. I’ve let go of the mystical stereotype that I once connected with it, mostly influenced by movies and TV shows that epitomized “hippie types” listening to new-age music, perched on floor mats while humming chants. While that works for some, it’s not me.

I envision meditation as quiet contemplation or purposeful thinking; evaluating or uncovering the truth about something I’m dealing with, or something about my own self. Don’t get me wrong, I struggle with it. I become distracted and my mind wanders toward things that I’ve no intention of thinking about. I hear the slightest noise; a footstep, the sound of a car passing by outside, the clock ticking on the wall, and I lose my focus. Each noise is a push or a pull of my mind onto another topic, each of these topics spawning its own sub-plots, directions and deviations. Some of the thoughts are nuisances related to the nitty-gritty details of life: I need to return that shirt to the store; I should call my brother; the car needs an inspection; but then before I know it, I’m processing the passing of a loved one, or my own mortality, an interaction with a friend that went badly, and a dozen other things. It seems my mind strays more to the future than to the past. More to what could be, than what was or even what is.

Wait. Stop. Now I’m distracted about being distracted.

I try again, sustaining my focus for a short time but soon I’m off on a familiar track. Too tired or too lazy I let it go, and then almost suddenly I can hear it. It was there all at once: The silence, the being still.

It lasted for just a few moments, probably suspended by my own realization that it happened. Perhaps that is what truly being still is; somehow being “there” so completely that you are not able to process that you are “there.” The processing takes you out of the moment. Perhaps too, the spawning of thoughts, one leading to the next, is needed. Maybe we need to give each of those detours their due as they pass by our mind’s eye so they can be dismissed and all the other items buried underneath can move themselves up and be given their own moments in our heads and hearts. Leaving just us and our maker.

Maybe being truly still is not about pushing thoughts out of our minds but instead releasing our thoughts. Maybe it’s not about willpower, but instead about being willing to let go of the power.

To be sure, I don’t know; but I’m learning about myself, I think. Listening to the silence today, if just for a moment, was a wonderful blessing. I’m definitely coming early tomorrow.